


birds of a feather (our hearts knit together)

by AuroraKant



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Angst with a Happy Ending, Animal Transformation, Blood, Brotherly Bonding, Curses, Dick Grayson is a Prince, Fairy Tale Retellings, Knitting, M/M, Magic, Muteness, Oliver Queen Being an Asshole, Roy Harper is a King, Threats of Cannibalism, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27618718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraKant/pseuds/AuroraKant
Summary: One last time he let his voice ring loud: “I am Dick Grayson, Son of King Bruce! I am the oldest of seven, and I will bring you back! I will save you! And we will all return home together.”His siblings vanished from his view bathed in golden light, their delighted swan song still echoing in Dick’s ears. He picked up the first thistle, a thorn piercing his skin. He watched as a sole drop of blood ran down his finger…it had started.Or: Dick is eleven when he and his siblings get send to a castle in the woods - He is seventeen, when his brothers and sisters get turned into swans - And he is eighteen when he sets out to save them.
Relationships: Batfamily Members & Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson/Roy Harper
Comments: 14
Kudos: 98
Collections: Dick Grayson Fic Exchange 2020





	birds of a feather (our hearts knit together)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [graysonsflight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/graysonsflight/gifts).



> It is time for a fairy tale au!  
> I hope you like it, Graysonsflight, and it satisfies your wish for Fairy Tale AU - even if this is a retelling of a less known German fairy tale called the Six Swans!  
> Many thanks to my Beta [Fori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lulaypp/pseuds/Lulaypp) for making me believe in this story!
> 
> Comments, Kudos and Bookmarks make a Author very, very happy! <3

_Once Upon A Time, in the kingdom of Gotham lived a boy… but what is this? The boy wants to tell this story by himself? Well then, we should allow him to do just that:_

It began when Bruce didn‘t return from a trip to Metropolis for three weeks. Dick was eleven at the time, and he did his best not to let his worry show, as not to frighten his six younger siblings.

They were all so small and young, and they didn’t need to know that it was uncommon for Bruce to stay away from Gotham for so long. Both Jason and Cass, the oldest after Dick with their nine years of age, obviously sensed that something was wrong, but Dick didn’t have it in himself to tell them just how stifling the dread growing in his stomach was.

So, instead of making them worry more, Dick joked and laughed and made them play. He danced with Steph on the courtyard, and he showed Duke and Tim how to use the finger paint an Atlantean merchant had gifted them last month. He even played with Damian, who was just a baby, and mostly tried to eat the fringes of Dick’s hair.

He made them laugh. It was his duty as the crown prince after all, and it was his duty as their eldest brother.

He would do everything to protect them. _Always_.

Maybe that was why he didn’t openly show his relief when Bruce returned from his travels, thinner and world wary. His siblings didn’t need to see just how anxious Dick had been. They didn’t need to know that Dick had almost stopped believing in Bruce’s return himself. And yet some part of him still sensed that something else was going on.

Which was why Dick wasn’t surprised when Bruce pulled him aside, something sad in his dad’s eyes. But then again, Bruce’s eyes had been sad ever since his late wife, Queen Selina, had died, and Dick himself could still feel the echoes of pain that reverberated through his own heart, whenever he was reminded of his adopted mother’s death.

Only this time, it wasn’t Selina’s death that weighted on Bruce. It didn’t take long for Dick to understand what kind of weight was pulling Bruce down.

Bruce had never sounded like this before, so heartbroken, not even when Selina’s tomb was sealed. Dick could feel himself fray under the heavy gaze, when Bruce spoke the words that damned all of them away from the only home they had ever known:

“Dick, my son, you are the eldest, you are the only one I can tell all of this. I met a witch in the woods, and she saved my life, but I was forced to agree to marry her daughter. In a fortnight my life will be tied to Victoria Vale, the witch’s daughter, and I fear for your life. All of your lives.”

“What… What do you mean, Bruce?”

“I will have to send you away. You are no longer safe in Gotham. I fear Victoria won’t respect you since you are my child in everything but blood, and she won’t respect Damian since he is the child of another queen. I fear she will kill you.”

Disbelief colored Dick’s world, and when he looked at his father, he voiced it:

“So, don’t marry her! Send her away and stay with us!”

“I can’t do that son. Her mother cursed me. I shall marry her or die a painful death and… and as much as it hurts me to say that, I can’t die or Gotham will suffer.”

“Bruce… Father… you-?”

“I love you, Dick. And I love all of your siblings. I will visit you, and you will not suffer hunger or thirst or comfort. I will take care of you – I just won’t be able to be there for you. From now on… from now on it is your responsibility to look after the family, all right?”

There was so much trust and love in the king’s eyes that Dick could do nothing else but nod. Of course, he would look after his siblings. Of course, he would take care of them. He would make sure they had everything they needed… and one day they would return to Gotham. They would return to their father’s side, and everything would be alright.

The castle that the seven siblings lived in was in a far corner of the northern woods of Gotham, bordering the expanses of Star Kingdom.

They had everything they could ever ask for: they had food and water, warm baths and enough space to play. They had a library and a courtyard, a kitchen and a pallor. They were never devoid of anything – except for their father’s attention.

Dick did his best to raise them all.

At this point they had spent almost six years in this forbidden part of the forest, and Dick himself had grown into a man. Cass and Jason, both of them fifteen years old, also began to fill out – and to strain against the rules of their confinement.

They had lived together for so long by now, it was hard not to long for the outside world. It was hard not to dream about something outside of these stone walls and endless trees. But alas, Dick had sworn to protect his siblings and he would do his very best to keep true to that promise.

He helped Jason with his studies, the boy angry but also so awfully intelligent. He watched over Cass’s training fights and congratulated her for every word she managed to decipher from one of Jason’s books. Dick made sure to celebrate Tim’s thirteenth birthday with the valor it deserved, and he helped Duke build the wooden castle in the courtyard the boy had always dreamed of.

Dick made sure Steph didn’t explode the kitchen, and he laughed when Jason forbade him from ever cooking again. He was constantly there, when Jason and Tim fought, when Cass and Steph fooled around, when Duke and Cass decided to play hide and seek… He was their rock, _their guardian_ , for however long Bruce was able to keep the witch at bay.

And he was Damian’s parent. He had changed Damian’s diapers when the boy had still been a baby, and now at seven, Damian was always by his side, coloring and running and laughing. Sometimes Dick wondered if Damian could even remember Bruce at all.

Their father made sure to visit them every two or three months, and ever since Damian had learned how to walk, he followed his siblings into the woods to greet their father… but Dick doubted that his boy knew that the man in regal clothing who sometimes came by, was the king of Gotham, _his blood father_.

It was nothing to quell on, especially since it was never silent or calm.

There was always another fire for Dick to put out, and Dick faced each of these challenges with a smile on his face and a joke on his lips.

He helped Jason rearrange the library, and he watched as Cass explained something to Tim. He held Duke after the boy had a nightmare, and he let Steph try her artistic talents on his face. He cuddled with Damian in front of the great fireplace, and he made sure neither Duke nor Steph would lose an eye after their last fight.

Damian didn’t really remember Bruce anymore, the man more of a legend for Tim and Duke as well… but the rest of them? They had known Bruce for an important part of their short lives.

Hell, Dick missed Bruce when he went to bed at night, stepping out of his breeches and into his soft bed. He missed the big and callused hands, and he missed the deep baritone that could sooth his worrying soul. He missed having someone who was strong enough to take care of everyone, even Dick. It had been a long time since someone had taken care of him.

It hurt to see the anger in Jason’s eyes when two months of no contact turned into three, and it hurt even worse to see the acceptance in Cass’. Maybe because Dick knew the same emotions were mirrored in his own face.

Six years was a long time to stay away from the world. Six years was a long time… long enough to grow up and raise children.

Six years was long enough to fall into a routine.

Dick slept long on the one day their routine finally - _disastrously_ \- changed.

Nobody had woken him up, no excited feet pushing in his stomach, no cold hands on his neck to scare him awake… when he blinked his eyes open, he was alone.

Silence bathed their entire castle quiet, and a dire sense of foreboding overcame him. Something was going on, and whatever it was, it could mean nothing good. He couldn’t even find Damian, now that he was looking.

It took him too long to end up at the window of the tower facing south.

He starred in the direction of Gotham, the place they had fled from so long ago, searching for a clue. Maybe Bruce had decided to visit them early, maybe they would see their father today… and, yes, now that he was looking, Dick could see a cluster of trees in the forest that collected shadows. A big horse maybe… sometimes Bruce liked to bring them gifts.

Sometimes he came with a carriage, full of goods they rarely got. He brought wine and meat, and toys in all the colors of the rainbow. He presented them with new clothes and pretty accessories, and he smiled while doing so, as if he had never left them at all.

 _To ease his guilt_ , an ugly part of Dick’s soul whispered, but Dick tried to ignore it. Instead, he searched for the relief buried deep inside of him, that should inform him that everything was alright… only that relief never came.

Dick continued to stare – the dread growing in his soul – but before he could do anything of importance, the shadows intensified. He blinked and… from the depths of the forest six black swans escaped towards the sky, their screams loud and pained.

They were giant birds, their feathers the deepest black Dick had ever seen. Their eyes were big and scared, and Dick… he felt connected to them. His soul sang in chorus with their anguished calls, and he knew-

These swans they were-

His…

They weren’t looking at him, the animals vanishing over the horizon, and yet Dick simply knew. He knew that it were his siblings that had just disappeared. He knew it had been his family’s spirits that were now buried deep inside these shadow creatures.

His family was gone.

Dick was alone.

And he had no idea what to do next.

Bruce came for him the next day, something frantic and horrible in his gaze. His father knew that something was wrong, and yet Dick couldn’t bring himself to answer coherently, the fear of what had happened weighing on his soul like tar.

What next?

_What was he supposed to do?_

He tried to explain to Bruce that Jason, Cass, Steph, Tim, Duke, and Damian had been turned into swans, but he knew his father didn’t believe him… was not strong enough to believe him. His father’s eyes said it all: He thought Dick had gone insane in his grief.

And who would blame him? Losing six members of one’s family like this would break even the strongest spirit. From the looks of it, Bruce was ready to break as well. And it wasn’t as if Bruce thought his siblings to be alive – no, Bruce was well aware of the fact that something had happened. Something truly horrible.

Dick could see it in his eyes, and he could hear it in the frantic echo hiding in Bruce’s voice when he spoke:

“Come with me, Dick. It was a mistake to think all of you would be safe out here in the woods. I will take you back to Gotham, and I will protect you there. I will care for you and make sure that no one else will ever be able to hurt you again.”

Bruce wanted him to go with him, but the disappearance of his siblings was a much too high price to pay for his return to a city he had missed with all his heart. Dick… he couldn’t just go without trying to save his siblings first.

But Bruce wouldn’t hear Dick’s explanations, so Dick simply lied. He looked into his father’s eyes, found the warmth and the worry that had always been the cornerstone of his father’s soul, and appealed to these parts of the king in front of him, when he spoke:

“I will come with you, Bruce. I will come – but let me spend one last night in this castle. Let me wait for them to return one last time. Maybe they will come back, maybe I will see them again. Tomorrow you can come and get me, and I will not fight, but today I have to wait and see if my siblings return.”

Bruce’s eyes were sad, but his voice was full of understanding:

“Of course, my son. Grief and move on. I will be back for you tomorrow, and then… just know that I will protect you.”

His father left. The sun hadn’t even begun to set, when Dick left the castle behind as well, a bag slung over his shoulder, his spine straight. He was ready. He would find them.

His siblings had flown north – Dick vanished into the forest following them.

He walked for many days and nights, his feet never growing tired. He slept underneath the stars and he wept when he missed the comforts of his brothers and sisters.

Yes, they had annoyed him greatly. They had fought and been loud and sometimes they even bit… but being surrounded by life was so much better than frantically searching for it.

It felt fruitless to run and search, since no matter where he looked Dick could find no trace of his siblings. There were no more black swans in the sky, and even the occasional black feather Dick found on his hike through the woods, did nothing but fill him with dread.

It would be easy to fall victim to the hopelessness gnawing on his bones, but Dick tried to stay strong. He sang when the nights grew too dark, and he laughed when he reminded himself of the hijinks his brothers had gotten into or the chaos his sisters liked to create.

Dick’s greatest strength had always been his stubborn belief in the best of the world – he was an optimist as Steph would say. And, yes, even now, Dick did his very best to stay positive.

What virtue was there in the world if Dick couldn’t even laugh in the face of danger?

He would get his siblings back and he would travel to hell and beyond to save them.

In the end he didn’t have to go quite that far. After what felt like months of senseless wandering, his bones tired beyond their years, Dick found a small cabin in the middle of the woods he was currently traversing. It was a broken-down building, and Dick couldn’t find an owner anywhere in sight.

He knocked on the door, and he yelled and waited for an answer… but when none came, he allowed his wariness to win out. A good night’s rest in a proper bed sounded like the best thing there was right now, and he craved the security of a roof over his head.

It was easy to break the door open, and it was even easier to find the room on the first floor, filled with six beds. For a moment Dick allowed himself to dream of soft cushions and feather blankets, but the room looked well used and the beds were made.

Someone apparently did _live_ here.

And no matter how much Dick craved a bed, he wouldn’t disturb the equilibrium of this place more than necessary. Instead, he laid down on the floor, cushioning his head on his arm, watching the sun set through the small window on the opposite wall.

The roof over his head was enough, tension bleeding out of him, his eyes closing… when suddenly he heard the sound of giant wings moving through the air. His eyes flew open once more, and he was greeted by six black swans tumbling through the window, one after the other.

His shock tied him down, and he waited with halted breath, as the swans turned towards each other, and blew until the feathers flew away and only his siblings were left. The smallest swan turned into Damian, the biggest into Jason, and soon Dick had scrambled up from his position on the floor, pulling both of them into a hug. Quickly other arms joined their cuddle pile, Stephanie, Cass, Duke and Tim just as desperate for their reunion.

_Dick had found his siblings!_

Or they had found him!

It didn’t matter – either way tears were pooling down his cheeks, his face split by the giant grin pulling it apart. He had found his family! Their arms and love were crushing him, and Dick knew, he wasn’t the only one crying.

He could hear Damian’s quiet sobs, and Cassandra’s loud ones… he could feel Duke’s shoulders tremble under his tight grasp, and he knew the wetness growing next to his neck was due to Tim spilling all his sorrow. Jason held all of them together, his brother - the second oldest - ready to step up.

For a moment that was enough, but Dick could already feel Cass pull away, could sense Tim returning to the present.

“I found you…” His voice was barely more than a relieved whisper, and it only hurt a little bit to see the secretive glance between Steph and Jason. 

They untangled themselves from their position on the floor, until only Damian with his seven years of age was left in Dick’s tight hold. Dick looked at the five children in front of him and asked:

“What?”

It was Duke, who broke the silence first, his voice hoarse and small:

“We can’t stay.”

“Why not?”

“Because the spell…”

“The spell only allows us to stay human for fifteen minutes a day. Enough for us to retain our humanity and remember the pain, but not long enough to save ourselves.” Finished Steph when Duke’s voice broke.

_Oh no._

What horror had been done to his siblings? What curse had destroyed their life?

“There must be… there must be a way to help you? I have to be able to save you somehow!”

Dick knew he sounded angry and frightened, but he couldn’t lose his siblings so quickly after finding them again. He couldn’t… being alone had hurt the first time, his heart would break should his siblings leave him so soon to return to the sky.

But only silence greeted his outburst. Once again, all his siblings shared a look, Dick couldn’t understand. They had spent months flying together, they had learned to live together… and some part of him was glad that they were looking out for each other, that they loved and cared about one another, and yet some part of his soul ached in jealousy.

_He missed them so, so much._

In the end it was Jason, who spoke. Jason, who told him:

“There is a way to free us. The witch caught us with dresses woven out of magic. If you manage to knit six dresses out of thistle in six years, you can free us.”

“That doesn’t sound-“

“I am not done, Dick. You… the moment you begin to knit the very first dress, you have to forsake your voice and your joy. If you even laugh or talk once, the entire attempt will have been for naught, damning us forever, and cursing you as well.”

“I will do it.”

And Dick would. His resolve was already growing. What kind of price was his joy and his voice when it came to the freedom of his siblings? He would gladly give his life for every single one of them.

“We cannot ask this from you.”

Cass was as silent as ever when she spoke, and Dick wanted to cry. They loved him as well. They loved him, and they didn’t want to see him suffer – but Dick was the eldest. He had always been ready to give them his everything:

“You are not asking. I am offering. What is my voice when it comes to your life? I will gladly give a year to each and every one of you… I will save you. And I love you.”

He could see the change return to their features, could see the feathers return to their skin.

It was Damian who stayed human the longest, his small and tiny arms never leaving Dick. It hurt to see them vanish, it hurt to lose Damian again. His boy – now a creature of the sky once more.

This time he knew he wasn’t imagining things, when the swans flew away, leaving him behind. He could see the tears run down their faces, and he could see the tears turn into crystals where they touched the ground.

His siblings were crying for him as well, just as his heart ached for them. He would save them, without words or laughter. He would save them, even if it was the last thing he did.

Not waiting for the owners of the cabin to return, Dick wandered deeper into the forest the very same night. Maybe it would be easier to keep his joy locked away and his voice a secret, should he live far away from any sign of civilization.

It would be hard. Dick wasn’t delusional – he knew his laughter to be one of his best assets, his voice something many had complimented him on. He was a loud person, and a loving one. He had always enjoyed the attention of others, and his skin had grown needy for touch in the few months he had searched for his siblings alone.

But… his voice was worth nothing if it wasn’t his siblings listening to it. His laughter was worthless if it didn’t express his joy at seeing his sisters and brothers alive.

He could deny himself both if it meant saving them.

The forest grew darker and deeper around him, the trees so high, they almost touched the sky. Dick walked and walked and walked, and days passed overhead. After a fortnight he finally found a clearing with no shortage of thistle and a lack of human touch.

He sat down on a stone in the middle of the thorny purple flowers and he looked up. The sun stood high on the sky, her glare warming his face. Dick allowed himself to smile, and he laughed when six giant shadows passed in front of the sun.

His siblings were here to see him begin his work.

_He would save them._

One last time he let his voice ring loud:

“I am Dick Grayson, Son of King Bruce! I am the oldest of seven, and I will bring you back! I will save you! And we will all return home together.”

His siblings vanished from his view bathed in golden light, their delighted swan song still echoing in Dick’s ears. He picked up the first thistle, a thorn piercing his skin. He watched as a sole drop of blood ran down his finger… _it had started_.

From now on he had six years to be silent and joyless… six years to knit six dresses to save every one of his brothers and sisters.

He lived in this clearing for months, watching as clouds and weather passed him by. It was a thankless work, his fingers bleeding, his back aching from his position on the stone. But not once did Dick sigh in discomfort, not once did he let his desperation show in his voice. Instead, he continued to work.

He was knitting the first half of the first dress, only stopping when it was time to sleep, or when the hunger got too bad and he had to hunt, when something changed.

It was a sunny autumn day, and Dick tried not to think about the upcoming winter. Soon everything would be covered in ice, soon he would have to find a new place to hide, a new source for the thistles that would save all their lives. 

Only that it didn’t come to that.

Instead his silent afternoon spent knitting got interrupted by the sounds of approaching horses.

Dick hadn’t talked to a person in over half a year, and he hadn’t seen another human for just as long. He missed human contact, he missed feeling alive. He could work on his sibling’s fate with a stubbornness his father had often complimented, but that didn’t mean that Dick didn’t crave touch and love and comfort and _companionship_ with a ferocity usually only witches possessed.

Just the sound of other people made his heart beat faster and his breath shudder. He wouldn’t talk – of course not – but he oh, so desperately wanted to.

Five men entered Dick’s clearing, all of them armed, all of them riding horses. It was a mixed bunch, some of them tall, some of them small, all of them dressed in the clothes of a knight. They looked upon Dick and he couldn’t help himself: He smiled at them.

He had missed being able to form a connection.

It was a close-lipped smile, nothing special or daring or great, but it was the most Dick allowed himself, afraid of questioning fate. So, he kept the corners of his mouth turned upward, but his joy simple, in his hopes not to get punished.

Instead, the leader of the knights dismounted from his horse, his steps careful as he came closer towards Dick:

“Who are you? We don’t want to harm you, but these are the king’s hunting grounds.”

Dick only shook his head. He couldn’t answer them after all.

The knight continued:

“I am Connor Hawk, the head of the King’s Round Table. Who are you?”

Dick denied an answer once more.

“Can you tell us anything? We really, really don’t want to hurt you, but your presence here is against the law. You could be hung for poaching.”

It was a wicked situation, and Dick wasn’t sure how to react, so he ripped off the golden necklace Bruce had gifted him long ago and threw it into the knight’s direction. But that didn’t seem to be enough, so Dick offered his threadbare clothing as well, in a futile effort to show them that he was no danger at all.

Soon he was only dressed in his undergarments, even those dirty after all those months he had spent living in the woods on his own. But the knights must have seen something in him, their eyes calculating when they took in his sorry form.

Once upon a time Dick had been a royal, he had looked dashing and daring, even locked away in the woods. Now he looked like a poor farmer’s boy, with his old clothes strewn around on the floor and the half-finished thistle dress still clutched in his bloody hands.

And yet… and yet he was a sight to behold, at least Connor Hawk seemed to think there was something noteworthy when it came to Dick. The man turned around and mounted his horse once more, before disappearing into the woods.

Maybe they would kill him.

Being hung was not the worst kind of death, better than being drawn and quartered, but Dick felt grief well up inside of him. It wasn’t just his own life that would be lost should they execute him – he would damn his siblings as well.

Dick had to survive. At least for another five and a half years. At least until all six of his brothers and sisters could be saved.

It would be so much easier if Dick could just explain himself, but the curse had taken that from him. So, instead of begging for his life like he desperately wanted to, Dick waited for the knight to return.

And return he did, with another person in tow.

Even with his limited time spent at court, Dick recognized a king when he saw one. It wasn’t a royal he had ever met before, but the red-headed young man that greeted him had a divine aura that promised royal blood.

Even his horse stood more regal, and Dick could feel himself straighten as well.

It was unbecoming to slouch in front of a king.

“Who are you?”

This time it was the young king who spoke. But Dick had sworn an oath – he remained silent. He remained silent, even as the king stepped closer, his eyes never leaving Dick. For a tense moment – seven seconds if you were to count – silence reigned over the clearing, and then the king spoke again:

“I am King Roy, of Star Kingdom, and if you allow it, I would love to offer you a place to sleep at my palace.”

It was a grand offer – and one Dick was incapable to deny. So, he nodded, and warmth engulfed him, as King Roy slipped out of his heavy coat and pulled it tight around Dick’s shoulders.

He hadn’t even realized how cold he was, before Roy had offered up his warmth. Now Dick melted into it, a happy sigh escaping his lips.

Things moved rather quickly after that, the thistle dress still tightly clutched in his hand: King Roy ordered his men to collect Dick’s belongings, and to clear up the woods, and before long, Dick was sitting on the king’s horse, his back pressed against the warm body behind him.

He had missed human touch.

He also missed his voice.

But Dick would stay silent, and he would excuse himself from King Roy’s graces. He would find another forest, another field of thistles, and he would complete his task. He just… he was allowed to enjoy one night in a warm castle and with good food.

He could allow himself that much.

He didn’t just stay one night. He stayed many.

And it didn’t take long for him to realize that King Roy was courting him.

Each day the king greeted him in another language, just to see if Dick would answer this time, and each time he smiled even as he failed. He complimented Dick, told him of his beauty and his talent, and Dick could feel himself swoon even as he knew that this was not his destiny.

He wasn’t supposed to fall in love.

He was supposed to save his siblings.

Star Kingdom was different from Gotham, and Dick watched, dressed in the fine garments Roy had provided him with, as life moved on around him – without him. Roy was King, even though his father, the Late King Oliver, was still alive. Roy also had a daughter, Lian, born out of wedlock and yet the princess of the kingdom.

Dick loved Lian. She reminded him of Damian, but also not. She was a spitfire and a queen, a joy to be around… it was hard not to laugh when Lian sat down next to him during a banquet and whispered jokes just for Dick to hear. It was hard not to laugh, when Roy finally asked if Dick was mute, and Dick nodded, and Lian broke down in fits of giggles, astonished by her father’s obliviousness.

But Dick couldn’t lose himself in the joy Star Kingdom provided.

It would only end in pain, and it would be his brothers and sisters that paid the price should Dick not succeed.

He searched for thistles in the castle gardens and when he found none, he thought about vanishing into the night in an effort to find some. He needed to continue kitting, or otherwise his siblings’ souls would be lost.

Dick wouldn’t let that happen – no matter how much he missed the sound of his own voice, how much he missed the freedom of speech -- his lips were sealed.

He just wished he could laugh, to show Roy and Lian his gratitude for what they had done for him.

But even with Dick sneaking around in search for the flower that would restore order to the world, Roy proved himself to be a great man. He found Dick one night searching through the gardens, and when he saw the blood permanently staining Dick’s chapped hands, he asked:

“Are you searching for something?”

Dick nodded.

“What is it?”

Dick only raised an eyebrow.

“Of course, my mistake. Is it… is it the flower you were carrying when we found you?”

Relief flooded his veins and Dick nodded, the small, close-lipped smile decorating his lips once more.

“Then I shall bring you all the thistle this kingdom can provide.”

It came to no surprise when Roy asked to wed him not many months later, the first dress finished and stowed away in a dresser. They were sitting together during dinner, a private affair, when Roy lightly touched his shoulder and looked him in the eye:

“Lian has been bothering me about this, so I must ask… will you marry me? You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen, and your temper is that of a hero. You are intelligent and daunting, and a sight to behold… I wish nothing more than to make you my husband.”

There was little else Dick could do but cry and nod.

Their wedding was small, but the most beautiful thing Dick had ever experienced. He couldn’t say the vows when the silk band was bound over their locked hands, but his gaze said enough. And when Roy finally kissed him? Dick knew he wasn’t imagining the joyous cries of a certain group of black swans that was passing by overhead.

Dick was now a wedded man.

Roy laughed throughout the entire feast, and Dick did his best to share as many silent smiles with the crowd as possible. He wanted to cry and laugh and dance. He wanted to scream his love for Roy out into the open… but he did neither.

He sat by his husband’s side, their daughter laughing next to him, and smiled when people asked him something, never even making a sound.

It was late that very same evening when Roy looked at him, both of them sharing the same bed for the first time, and said:

“I love you, but I do not know your name.”

 _It is Richard_ , Dick wanted to say, _but you can call me Dick or Love or Dearest_.

He was silent, his eyes full of love.

Roy pressed on, his voice never wavering:

“I will not give you a new name, because you deserve the words you have given yourself, but I want permission to call you my Heart, my Sun, my Star…”

The tears running down his cheeks were not imaginary, and neither was Roy’s thumb as he brushed them away. It should be impossible to be this happy with his siblings suffering as they were, but Dick couldn’t deny himself this.

He couldn’t deny himself the soft feeling of warm skin underneath the palms of his hands, and he couldn’t stop his heart from beating this fast whenever he caught Roy’s gaze. He wanted this bed, this man, this life… and he would do it – he would save his brothers and sisters.

All thoughts regarding his family vanished, however, when Dick pressed forward and offered Roy his lips for a kiss instead of his nod for an answer.

Soon all other thoughts vanished as well, as Roy and Dick learned how to read each other’s body fluently.

It was no secret that the late king hated Dick.

More than once Dick had wandered the castle halls just to hear former King Oliver rage about him to his loyal advisors, never calling Dick _king consort_ , but always calling him a mute whore. It hurt to hear those words without even the slightest ability to defend himself against them, but Dick always carried on, his head held high.

He might not be able to talk like he used to, or laugh like he loved to, but he was still human, he was still himself.

Especially since there was always something to do.

Dick worked relentlessly on the second dress, finished it, and started the third. He helped in the kitchens and danced with Roy whenever he could. He trained in the courtyard together with the knights, and wandered the city, ready to defend those, who could not defend themselves.

And after a long day, the tips of his fingers bloody as always, he played with Lian and kissed Roy. He watched as his husband excelled at archery and he smiled when Lian tried the same, her small arms still too weak to pull the bowstring tight.

One day she would be an amazing archer, maybe even better than her father, and Dick loved watching this little girl grow.

It was weird to enjoy this. Dick’s life hadn’t been a normal one by any count, his childhood spent as the crown prince by Bruce’s side, his youth dripping away as he was locked in a castle in the woods, raising his six siblings. And now here he was… mute and without his laughter, but with a loving husband and daughter and a chance to save them all.

Maybe this would be enough.

Who cared if half the court sent hateful glances in Dick’s direction whenever he passed by? Who cared that his chest constricted every time the urge to laugh overcame him and he had to press it down? What did it matter that Dick no longer remembered what his own voice sounded like?

He wasn’t alone.

_At least he wasn’t alone._

So, with a stubbornness many had praised him for, he pushed forward. He got out of bed each morning, washed himself, and faced the day. Even on the bad days, even on the days Dick would rather vanish than be greeted by false deceit, he did his best to stand strong.

At least Roy never called him anything but Love, at least Lian was always honest in her affection.

Dick wouldn’t be able to do it without these two, and he could only hope that they knew how much he loved them as well.

It was almost their second wedding anniversary when Dick wandered the city, sword ready by his side, and found the child. It was huddled into a corner of the city wall, hidden by old and broken stone. At first Dick didn’t even realize that there was a child, his feet carrying him down a frequent and well traveled route.

But he heard the sound the child made, and when he turned around, he couldn’t help himself: He got closer and closer, until he could see the dirty bundle of old clothes, shaking in the frigid cold.

 _Who are you?,_ he wanted to ask, but instead he just knelt down, making himself appear smaller than he was. It was a boy, young, and a pang went through Dick’s heart when he thought of Damian, his baby brother, looking forlorn like this.

Dick showed him the palms of his hands. Hopefully that conveyed his lack of weapon, his offer of peace. The boy looked at him, something calculating in his gaze. 

Dick let him.

He didn’t waver under the scrutinizing eyes, too used to it by now. He let the boy take his time. When the small voice finally broke free, Dick was almost surprised. He hadn’t thought the boy would willingly talk to him:

“Are you the mute king?”

Close enough. Dick nodded.

“What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in your warm and comfy home?”

It was a complicated question to answer, especially since Dick had no words to help him out. So, he shrugged his shoulders, and searched for his pouch, offering a few pieces of gold to the boy.

“You can’t buy me!”

Suddenly the boy was standing, and Dick fell back, his balance disturbed by the surprise. Standing, the boy looked even more pitiful, his cheeks taunt and his clothes dirty.

He reminded Dick so much of Damian - of Jason and Cass before Bruce found them - it almost choked him. It was harder to remember his siblings’ faces with each passing day, even if Dick would never allow himself to forget… he wanted to save this boy. It was the only thing he could do right now – he couldn’t save Jason and Damian and Cass and Tim and Steph and Duke for another three years… but he could help this one boy currently standing in front of him.

The boy’s chest was heaving, and just as Dick tried to find another method of conveying his intentions, a shadow fell over them both.

When Dick glanced up, it was his husband who had joined them:

“My Love, what is happening here?”

Dick pointed at the boy, and at the money decorating the ground, as Roy helped him stand. For a moment the King of Star looked confused, and then understanding settled under his skin:

“Hello, boy. I see you met my husband. He was offering you money, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah, he tried to buy me, that lump! He… your majesty…”

The realization that he was talking to the king came a bit too late for the boy, but neither Roy nor Dick cared. Their titles were just words, and right now the safety of the child was more important:

“He didn’t try to buy you, boy. He tried to help you out. Why… Why don’t you come with us to the castle and we can figure out how to help you from there?”

In another kingdom the boy would have run, but Star Kingdom loved Roy. It loved its beautiful and compassionate king, and Dick could see the boy consider it. He could see the moment the boy chose to go with them.

“Alright… my name is Colin by the way… _your majesty_.”

“You can call me Roy, Colin. And you can call my husband King Consort.”

Together they went home.

Colin stayed.

He became fast friends with Lian, the both of them a terror every castle guard feared, and it wasn’t long before Colin called Roy and Dick his parents.

It was pure warmth that filled Dick as he watched his family grow like this, and before he knew it, Dick loved Colin like a son.

They were a family of four now (or of ten, should you count the six black swans that haunted the castle) and Dick could feel something settle in his heart. He hadn’t even known he wanted kids, but now he could no longer imagine a world without his family like this.

He was in the midst of knitting his fourth thistle dress, his thoughts haunted by Cass’s clever feet and Steph’s boisterous laughter, when tragedy hit once more.

Dick had gone to bed next to Roy like usual, their children sleeping in the chamber next to theirs, but when he woke up it wasn’t his husband’s beautiful face that greeted him, it was the weapon of a castle guard.

It took too long for Dick to figure out what was happening, too long for him to register that it wasn’t his own bed he was laying in. He was laying in Colin’s bed, and his once white nightgown was stained red.

_Blood red._

Horror seeped into Dick’s bones before he could react, and he didn’t fight when the guard dragged him down the long stone hallways. It didn’t take long before Dick was disposed of in front of the former King Oliver… and his husband, who looked frantic and shocked.

It was the castle guard that spoke, since Dick couldn’t:

“I found him in the child’s bed! Clothes and face bathed in blood, and children’s bones right next to him! He ate his son!”

Roy only reacted in shock, his small gasp sending spikes of pain through Dick’s heart.

He didn’t understand! He hadn’t done what… _he hadn’t_ …. **where was Colin?** Dick needed to see Colin! He desperately needed to see his son!

But the hands on his shoulders didn’t ease up, even as Dick began to struggle. _He needed his son!_ A desperate keen threatened to escape him, but Dick bit his tongue bloody before it could escape him. What was a little more blood considering the amounts he was bathed in?

**He needed to see his son!**

And by the looks of it, Roy felt the same.

Before his husband could speak however, Late King Oliver began to speak:

“Ah, so the whore is a child eater as well. It is only right that he shall burn then. Prepare the stake!”

“No!”

It was Roy, who saved him.

“No! My husband will not burn! I am sure there is a proper explanation for this, and I want every guard and every knight to search for my son… but my husband will not burn. It is I, who is king, not you Father.”

Tears of gratitude and despair ran down Dick’s cheeks, painting his hands pink when he tried to wipe his tears away… they were stained now as well.

Just where was Colin? Just where was his son?

They couldn’t find their boy, and grief weighted on the royal family like a blanket. Dick cried while finishing the fourth dress, and he didn’t even care that blood was woven into the thistle. It was only right after all – they had lost their son.

And Dick couldn’t lose the guilt.

Something had happened that night, something horrible. Even if Roy didn’t believe the late king and the guards, most of the kingdom thought Dick to be guilty. But… no, Dick was sure that he hadn’t touched Colin, he hadn’t eaten their son.

But he was just as sure that something different and just as horrible had happened. The problem was… he couldn’t prove it, just as he couldn’t defend himself.

Maybe if he had words, he could tell Roy of the evil words Late King Oliver threw in his direction, and he would be able to explain the origin of the six black swans that seemed to watch over them. If he had his voice he could tell Roy his name, and he could explain that he loved Colin and Lian like his children and he would never harm them.

But, alas, Dick was bathed in silence, and now he also drowned in sorrow.

It felt like an eternity until Dick dared to smile his silent smile again.

Lian had begun her archery training, and it was then that Late King Oliver returned from a trip overseas with a small girl in tow. He called her Emiko, and she smiled at Dick when she saw him watching.

It was an easy friendship, this small girl often joining him in his solitude, her hands steadfast and her eyes wise.

It didn’t take long before Roy came to know and love her as well, the former king gone on a long trip across the world once more. Soon, Emiko ate dinner with Roy, Lian and him. Soon, Emiko played with Lian and hugged her when the girl cried for her brother. Soon, Roy slipped up and called her _his girl_ – and Emiko only grinned.

Neither Dick nor Roy wanted another child, the loss of Colin still so bright and painful in their hearts, but they couldn’t help themselves: One look at Emiko and how happy she was next to them, and they were helpless to call her anything but their daughter.

After all, she was the reason Lian smiled again.

She was the reason Dick could look Roy in the eyes again.

She was the reason Dick continued to work on the fifth dress, even if his soul begged him just to give up on everything.

At some point it became easy to call her daughter, and it got easy to watch when she played with Lian, mirroring her older sister during archery practice or dinner. 

There was a tendril of hope in Dick’s chest thanks to her, and when Roy kissed him for the first time again months after Colin had been declared dead, Dick didn’t turn away.

Instead he answered in kind.

_Nothing good could ever stay._

Dick knew they had lost another child when he blinked his eyes open, only to find his hands to be covered in sticky blood.

Shock boiled his insides, and he stumbled when he tried to climb out of Emiko’s bed. Everything was red, and Dick could feel his stomach revolt, when he saw the destroyed nightgown and the small bone in his hand.

This time the guard didn’t find him in the bed of his child… this time the guard found him stumbling deliriously through the hallways in search for his daughter.

He was crying, Dick distantly noted. He was crying and wailing without ever making a sound.

He wanted to scream and yell and rage – he wanted his daughter back.

This time Dick didn’t fight at all when the guard dragged him in front of the late and current king – he only sobbed harder when he saw the horror in Roy’s eyes.

It was the Late King Oliver who spoke:

“Another child eaten by this whore! Just burn him already! Even if you only do it to save your third child… we can’t have wicked child eaters in our castle!”

Dick didn’t deserve it when Roy rose to defend him:

“I will not burn my husband. He is just and he would… the man I love would never eat our child. I will send out the guards and they will search for Emiko; I will not burn my husband at the stake. I am sure, if he was able to speak, he would defend himself.”

Dick had no idea, what he would do, should his words be his own. He was just so full of despair and grief, burning at the stake didn’t seem like the worst fate that could befall him.

It was then that Dick glanced out of the window of the chamber they were in and saw a bird fly by.

 _A black swan_.

One of his siblings.

One of the people Dick could still save.

Maybe his life was not his own anymore, but he would at least try and protect his siblings. He had already failed his children, there was no need to do the same for his brothers and sisters.

He missed them.

Terribly so.

He missed Jason’s endless rants about the books he found in the library, and he missed Cass’s talent when it came to fighting – and dance.

He missed Duke’s clever curiosity regarding buildings and architecture, and he missed Tim’s fierce intelligence that got him in trouble more often than not.

He missed Steph’s talent in the kitchen and her horrid temper outside of it… and he missed Damian, who had been his son in everything but blood, and who hadn’t cuddled with Dick for five years now.

(and he missed Colin and the dirt on his nose when he came to dinner claiming to have washed up – his heart had already begun to miss Emiko as well, and the adorable blush that colored her cheeks pink whenever Dick pressed a goodnight kiss on her forehead)

For a long time, Dick had thought losing one’s sibling to be the most horrid of pain, but being forced to survive a second child? That was a pain threatening to destroy Dick completely.

Time moved on.

Dick hated it.

He finished the fifth dress, his hands busy knitting the sixth, and he just wanted it all to be over. In the beginning he had missed his laughter, because during the good times Dick had felt the need to express his joy… now he missed his voice, so he could yell his despair.

But Dick remained strong, he remained stoic.

He remained silent.

He continued to knit, and he continued his attempts to cheer Lian up. He cooked with her, and helped her train; he bathed her and clothed her, and made funny faces – but his daughter was grieving her second sibling in just as many years. Just as Dick was unable to wash the pain away, so was Lian caught in a sorrow she was too young to face alone.

What hurt most, however, was the distance that grew between him and Roy.

The man, his husband, his love, had vouched for him, but that didn’t mean that the poisonous words of Late King Oliver hadn’t festered in Roy’s heart. The space between them in their bed was growing cold, and with each passing day, Roy left their shared meals earlier with an excuse ready on the tip of his tongue.

Dick tried not to let it get to him.

Everyone grieved differently after all, and if his husband needed space – Dick could give him that. He could give Roy all the room he needed.

But as time passed and a new normal came to reign their routine, something else became obvious as well. No matter how much Roy grieved and how angry he was – he protected Dick from the wrath of the kingdom and the words of the late king.

Even as the former king forbade Dick from appearing at banquets, even as the rumors and insults were no longer whispered but yelled, Roy never allowed anyone to lay a hand on Dick. He was still the king consort, he was still Roy’s Love.

Dick shouldn’t be as grateful for that, as he was, but even this small piece of compassion made it easier for him to bear the constant onslaught of mistrust.

Which was why, of course, everything had to change for the worst.

The six years of silence and sorrow were coming to a close. Dick’s fingers were callused, and the sixth dress was only missing the left sleeve, when horror once again struck.

This time it was the blood of his last child, of his only remaining daughter, that greeted him when he opened his eyes.

Lian.

His last hope.

His last tether to joy.

_Gone._

He was sure it was Late King Oliver’s doing, and yet Dick didn’t fight when the guards brought him in front of his husband. He didn’t fight when Roy broke down crying, and he didn’t fight when King Oliver looked at him and said:

“Burn the child eater at the stake!”

Roy’s voice was silent, almost a whisper, and his words broke Dick’s heart:

“Please… my Love… defend yourself. I don’t want to believe these accusations… I am giving you a last chance: Please just tell me what happened. Please just tell me you are innocent.”

The words broke Dick’s heart, mostly because they were impossible to follow. Dick couldn’t break his promise now, couldn’t damn him and his siblings so close to the end.

He was silent. And he remained quiet as Roy spoke again:

“I am sorry, my Love, but you leave me no choice: In a fortnight you will burn at the stake.”

Dick didn’t have it in himself to be anything but accepting of his fate.

Losing three children was too much – even for someone as stubborn and full of love as him. Even for a man as wonderful as Roy.

Dick got no chance to finish the sixth dress while he was being held prisoner in the place he had called home for almost five years now. When the guards came, however, led by the head of the knights Connor Hawk, they carried the dresses with them.

His perplexed expression must have been question enough, because Connor looked at him and said:

“The king told us how much you loved these dresses, how you spent every moment you could spare on knitting them… it is only fair you take them with you, wherever you go after this.”

Dick hated the grateful feeling that passed through him, hated the relief that flooded his veins as he clutched the scratchy fabric against his chest.

Today was the day of his execution – and today was the end of the six years without words or laughter.

Dick clung to the dresses as he was freed from his shackles and guided out of his cell. He was cold, his clothes simple pieces of linen. He no longer deserved the colorful garments of a king – he was a child killer after all.

The crowds yelled insults and threw fowl fruit at him as he was walked past, and Dick couldn’t fault them. He tried to ignore the pyre he could see from the corner of his eyes. It was a horrible sight, and it was easier to focus on the far away look in his husband’s eyes.

Roy, Late King Oliver, and the rest of the High Court of Star Kingdom, stood on a tribune close to the stake, and Dick could see the despair and pain in the face of the man he loved.

Roy had lost so much in the past few years, all of his children and all of his trust, and now he would be forced to watch the man, he called his Heart, die as well. Dick just hoped it wouldn’t crush him – Dick just hoped the dresses slung over his arms would be enough.

It was Connor who forced Dick to take the last few steps up on the pyre, who bound him tight, but let his arms roam free. The man’s hands weren’t cruel, no, if Dick had to guess, he would say that Connor was sad to see him go.

It was oddly comforting to know that people would grief him.

Silence bathed the courtyard as Connor stepped back and lit the pyre.

There was pain in Roy’s face, and Dick watched him close his eyes. There was glee in Oliver’s expression, and Dick met his gaze.

The fire wasn’t touching him yet, the flames still small and tame, when Dick took a deep breath and lifted his face to meet the sun.

Six small shadows blocked the light, and they grew bigger and bigger with every beat of their wings.

Six black swans descended from the sky, each of them a magnificent sight to behold. Their beaks were strong and curved, their bodies majestic… and as the first one brushed the flames growing around Dick, he threw one of the dresses up into the sky.

It was the first dress he ever knitted, and the swan caught it in the air, and turned. Soon the second swan almost touched the fire, and Dick threw the thistle dress – and the swan caught it, the beat of its wings changing almost immediately.

Dick continued to offer up his hand-knitted dresses, and his siblings continued to catch them, until only the unfinished dress was left – and the smallest of the swans.

The fire was hot now, almost touching him, already stealing his breath, but Dick couldn’t be deterred. He threw the last dress high in the air, and he watched Damian catch it, feather after feather falling from his body, until only a boy was left, with a wing instead of a left arm.

Now that he dared to look, Dick could see all of his siblings, all six of them, stand close to the stake. Their bodies were human once more, their faces distorted in distress. But that was okay… Dick had saved them. He had kept his promise, he had been silent for so long, he had kept himself from true happiness, and he hadn’t defended himself even in the face of certain death…

 _It was okay_.

He had done everything he could do.

And then the king, his husband, yelled:

“STOP! Distinguish the flames!”

And the guards did.

Soon hands freed him from the stake, and he was pulled down towards the ground, over burned and broken wood. 

He wanted to see his siblings, wanted to press his head against Jason’s neck, breathe in the smell of his little sisters, wanted to feel his Damian close by… but before he could do so another pair of arms pulled him into a hug.

Strong arms, Dick had come to know over the past few years. Arms, he had come to love.

He was crying by the time Roy pulled away far enough to see his face. Roy was crying as well:

“I am so sorry, my Love. I am so sorry. I do not know what is happening but burning you won’t do me any good. I am so sorry…”

“Roy…”

It was the first word Dick had spoken in six years, and it felt like honey on his lips. Roy stared at him, his eyes big, his smile grand:

“You can speak, my Love. You can speak! Please tell me everything about you!”

“I…”

In that moment the Late King Oliver broke through the guards, his steps angry and loud:

“What is happening here? Why is the child-eater no longer burning?”

“I am not burning because I have freed my brothers and sisters from an evil curse – I am free because I am not the one who harmed his children. I am not the one who hurt Lian, Emiko, and Colin!”

Oliver flinched back when Dick’s angry words hit him, and for the first time in a long, long while Dick felt strong. In control. _Powerful_. He felt like himself:

“I know it is you, Oliver, who hurt them. And I now I want to know what happened to them! **WHERE ARE MY CHILDREN**?”

His roar was enough to guide his siblings towards him. They breached through the guards stationed around him and Roy and for the first time in six years, Dick was able to see them in all their glory.

They had grown.

 _They had all grown so much_.

Dick could feel himself begin to cry harder, when he noticed that Jason was taller than him now, and so were Steph and Duke. Tim was still scrawny, but no longer a boy, instead he had grown into a man. Cass was a proper woman, and Damian… his baby had grown so much.

He was thirteen now, and Dick just wanted to hug him close, whispering promises of love and care into those familiar ears, until they could be a family again.

He had his siblings back – and once they had a chance to breathe, Dick would hug them until they had grown tired of him… but before he could do that, there was something else he needed to take care off.

The former King Oliver.

His three missing – _maybe dead_ – children.

He wouldn’t be able to live with himself, if he managed to save his siblings but not his kids:

“Speak, Oliver! Where are my daughters and my son!”

The former king didn’t seem inclined to answer Dick:

“This is none of your concern, whore! Look at him! He has lied to you, Roy! The whore could speak the entire time!”

“The whore is Crown Prince Richard of Gotham, next in line to the throne! Catch your tongue!”

It felt good to say his own name – it felt good to lay claim to the virtues of identity once more.

“Don’t listen to him, Roy! He is delusional!”

“Father!” – and Dick had never heard Roy sound so angry, had never heard his lovely husband sound so mad – “Shut up! I believe my husband… my Richard! It is you who has to answer for his crimes… What happened to our children?”

Silence bathed the three of them, the world around them a mess of yells of joy and confusion and éclat. And then Oliver shrugged, something ugly in his gaze, something bitter in his words:

“I gave them to the witch in the woods – good riddance, I’d say.”

It was Dick, who reacted first, yelling for Connor Hawk:

“I want all guards to find the witches of the woods… and I want you to bring me my children back!”

“Yes, your majesty.”

Roy spoke only seconds later, his voice not directed at the people of Star Kingdom – _no_ – his voice was only for Dick and Oliver to hear:

“You will pay for this, Father. You will burn for this.”

Guards stepped before Roy, and it didn’t take long, and the enraged yells of the Late King Oliver were only faint echoes in Dick’s ears as the man got dragged away. Roy turned around, maybe to ask Dick something, maybe to kiss and cry some more… but Dick didn’t wait for him.

Instead he turned towards his siblings.

Instead he welcomed their hugs and screams and tears.

He had freed his siblings. He had gotten them back. He had done everything in his power… and in the end fate had kept an eye on him, destiny had bestowed him with a smile.

Three months later, Roy and Dick renewed their vows, this time with Dick being able to speak the words he had wanted to say for years now. All the ‘ _yes_ ’s and the ‘ _I love you_ ’s and the ‘ _you are my heart_ ’s fell easily from his lips now that words belonged to him again.

Roy had once commented that Dick didn’t seem to stop talking now that he could do it again, probably to make up for the six years he missed, but Jason had been quick to correct Roy, telling him that Dick loved words, and music, and laughter.

Dick was a creature of light, and he could finally bath in the joy of his own nature again.

Many things had happened to make this second wedding possible.

They had grimly watched as the late king burned at the stake. And they had celebrated when the knights found three children huddled in the back of a witch’s cabin.

They had gotten their children back, even if it would take some time until Colin, Emiko and Lian would be able to smile again, like they had done so freely once upon a time. But there was no shortage of time – all of them had a future now.

Dick had saved his siblings, and he had cared for them these past months, while they recovered. Being a swan for so long, left them with mental scars, and Damian was forced to relearn many things – as a human child, and as a boy with a wing for an arm.

But Dick cared, and Roy cared, and all that work seemed to pay off.

Cass lost that scared look in her eyes, and Steph only squawked sometimes when words eluded her. Duke had finally lost his fear of cellars, and Tim smiled twice just last week… Jason had stopped stumbling whenever he forgot his height, and Damian…

Dick was lucky enough to call Damian his son once more.

His and Roy’s second wedding was the event of the century, with all his children and siblings here, and Dick let himself feel the joy, let himself laugh and cry and sing even in the hours leading up to it. 

The ceremony would start in only a few short moments, and even though they had been married before, Dick could feel the excitement thrumming through his veins.

This was what life could be like.

This was the happy ending all of them deserved.

It was then that the door to the main hall got pushed open, and a grim looking man stepped through.

The entire hall kept their breath, and fear danced through Dick’s body… and then he saw the man for whom he was.

Dick was running before he could stop himself, his arms falling around the thick neck, the sturdy body… he knew that smell, even if it was hidden under dirt and sweat and leather… he knew that smell, because it was the smell of his childhood:

“Bruce…”

“Hello, my son.”

It was his father. It was Bruce. And they were hugging on the day of his second wedding. They were hugging – after they hadn’t seen each other for over six years:

“You are here?”

“I never stopped looking. And now I have found you all.”

There was no better reason to cry.

“Thank you… thank you for finding me…”

“Thank you for saving them all… and congratulations, my son, I heard you are getting married… Can I have the honor of tying the knot?”

Dick looked at him, looked at the joy in his siblings’ faces, looked at the glee in Roy’s eyes, looked at smiles gracing his children’s lips… and he whispered:

“Yes… yes, I would love that.”

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> GIANT SHOUTOUT to the wonderful Haruyukim who made this absolutely AMAZING [fanart](https://haruyukihana.tumblr.com/post/642506070109110273/inspired-by-birds-of-a-feather-our-hearts-knit) of Dick and his swan siblings!!! Please check it out and GIVE IT YOUR LOVE!!!


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